CHAPTER VII.

_A WINTER OF PLOTS._

I went back to my uncle's house with my head full of romantic stuff about lovers and love's dreams, and with every intention of working might and main to bring about the happiness of the two beings in whom these romantic notions centred--namely, the dashing young Viscount and sweet Mistress Mary Mead. Not only did I resolve to deliver the precious letter upon the first possible opportunity, but I also made up my mind to speak such glowing words of praise anent the writer thereof as should move the heart of any maiden, still more of one who I was very certain was predisposed to think kindly of him of whom I should thus speak. I was little versed in affairs of the heart; yet I had not read my Shakespeare so earnestly for nothing all these years, and I felt very sure that the heart of a young maid was not of adamant, and that the youthful wooing of which the Viscount had told me could not have failed to make an impression upon the tender and ardent imagination of Mistress Mary.

Nevertheless, in spite of all the eagerness on my part to set things in train for a happy consummation, I was destined to disappointment; for not only had Mistress Mary not returned to Miss Blake's house when I got back, but I speedily heard that she had accompanied her young namesake on a visit the latter was paying to some relatives in the adjoining county of Devon, and that she was not like to return to Taunton for some months to come. Moreover, I could not learn her exact whereabouts in Devonshire, only that it was at the other side of the county, and nigh to Cornwall. There was plainly no chance for me to pay her a flying visit on Blackbird. I should have to wait until she returned to her abode in the town. I shrewdly suspected that my Lord of Lonsdale had had somewhat to do with this journey of hers far away. Belike he had spoken to his friend Sir Ralph Bridges of his wish to keep his son from the fascinations of Mistress Mary, and this visit for her had been arranged between them.

Lord Vere was very sorrowful when he heard what had befallen, and declared it all part of a plot. But he was resolved that no machinations on the part of those about them should sunder him from his Mary, and made up his mind to wait in patience till she returned, and then see if he could not make shift by hook or by crook to get speech of her, and plead his cause in person. Meantime he hung much about Taunton, and improved his acquaintance with that city and with many of its inhabitants, making himself well beloved by all who saw him for his gay and winsome ways, and his gracious kindliness of demeanour to his inferiors. And doubtless this paved the way for what followed later.

I had not been home long before Will Wiseman sought me out, and with an air of secrecy and importance invited me to come when occasion served and visit him of an evening at Master Simpson's house.

"There be meetings twice or thrice in the week, Dicon," he whispered, with his finger on his lips. "Men say that the King cannot live long--that he has a mortal disease which is slowly consuming him. The friends of liberty are laying their plans, and are taking counsel together what it is best to do. They meet at Master Simpson's ofttimes, and if thou wilt come I will take care thou dost hear all that is said. Money is being got together, and men are secretly working amongst their fellows, so that at the right moment the whole county will rise as one man for the right. Come and hear for thyself; but not a word to thine uncle. He is too cautious a man to join with the friends of freedom. He desires to see how the issue will be decided ere he commits himself to take a side. That is not the stuff of which heroes are made." Will's eyes flashed with his enthusiasm; and I caught the spirit from him, and vowed I would come so soon as my duties would permit me.

What Will spoke of mine uncle was too true for me to resent. He was one of those who desired to embrace the winning side, whichever that side should be. I knew well that in his heart he favoured the cause of the Duke of Monmouth; but he was less sanguine than some of his towns-folk of the chances of the Duke's success, and he had no wish to imperil his life or his living by any unguarded movement that might cause him trouble later. He went steadily about his daily business, talking freely with all who came and went, but always professing that he had neither time nor knowledge to judge such matters. The making of kings was no business of his; all he strove after was to obey the laws of the land, and give his allegiance to the reigning sovereign.

By these methods he succeeded in keeping the confidence and liking of all men; for a pleasanter companion, and a more hearty man in his ways, it would be hard to find. If ever he heard me speak an unguarded word on great matters, he would smite me on the shoulder, and give me a kindly hint to guard my tongue, lest it should bring me into trouble, and urge me not to meddle with matters beyond my understanding. But I could not abide by such prudent counsel, and was all agog to hear what was the talk of Master Simpson's parlour, whither I repaired whenever I had the chance.

The men most frequently gathered together there for discussion and mutual encouragement as the winter drew on were the two Hewling brothers, of whom mention has been made, and who had wealth and leisure as well as good-will to expend in the cause; Master Herring and Master Hucker; a gentleman of the name of Sharpe, who was son to the Rev. Emmanuel Sharpe, who had once been Vicar of St. Mary Magdalen; and last, but not least, the two Dares, father and son, who always seemed of all present the most to incline to bold counsel and resolute action.

I should weary the reader were I to give too much in detail all that was planned and discussed at these meetings; but as the winter days drew on, and rumours from London spoke more certainly of the King's declining health, there was greater and greater desire amongst our friends to rouse in the minds of the people of the West Country a resolve to make a stand against Popery and unlawful tyranny. And I remember well how Heywood Dare stood forth one day and said that he would straightway go to Holland, find the Duke of Monmouth, and take counsel with him; whilst those who remained behind were to work ceaselessly in his interest here: so that when a blow was struck it might be a heavy and decisive one.

The Duke of Monmouth was now living at the Hague in a sort of honourable exile. The King had never ceased to regard him with affection; but the jealousies and dissensions of the Court, and the hostility of his own brother, had made him decree this thing for the sake of peace and quietness. It seemed to us that it should have been the Duke of York who ought to have been sent away; but unluckily we had no voice in the ruling of these matters. It was the Protestant Duke who had been forced to quit the country, and it certainly seemed an excellent thing to establish direct personal relations with him through the medium of Heywood Dare, a man of so much courage and devotion.

Those who worked amongst the people, sounding them and striving to kindle within their hearts an enthusiasm for the cause, reported favourably of the temper of the common people, but said that the gentry held aloof, and were not to be approached. The influence of the Earl of Lonsdale, Sir William Portman, and Sir Ralph Bridges was very great around Taunton, and all these gentlemen were loyal in their allegiance to what was termed the "Court party."

Sometimes I was called in and questioned about what I had heard at Court House of the matters appertaining to the Duke, and my reports were not favourable to our wishes. But I ventured once to hint that I thought perhaps the young lord, Viscount Vere, might be won over to our cause; and Mr. Benjamin Hewling was forthwith requested to seek him out and strive to sound him in the matter. For all those who knew most about the chances of such a struggle and the fortunes of war--should it ever come to a passage of arms--declared many times that we must have men of the better sort to lead and advise our recruits. Undisciplined soldiers would follow an experienced and gallant captain, when they would fall away in confusion and fear if they had no one above themselves to look to. I could well believe that there were hundreds who would follow the Viscount to danger and death, and fight to the very last gasp, who would turn tail and run like sheep had they only a plain townsman at their head.

How Mr. Benjamin Hewling fared on his mission I did not hear at once, but I thought in my heart that Lord Vere would scarce be adamant to a cause in which his Mary's heart was so bound up. He despised and hated the Duke of York--I knew that very well--albeit he declared his conviction of the necessity of supporting the rightful heir to the crown be he never so personally unbeloved. But if Mr. Benjamin, with his silver tongue and gentle ways, or Mistress Mary, with pleading glances and eloquent words, could make him see the matter differently, why, then, in him the good cause would have an able recruit; for my Lord Vere was skilled in every kind of martial exercise, had seen action abroad, and was of no small personal valour and gallantry.

I not unfrequently saw him in the streets arm in arm with Mr. Hewling, and I heard of him as being seen within their hospitable doors, whilst men spoke of the friendship which was growing up between him and the two brothers, of whom all men thought so well. That they were growing to be friends was evident enough, but whether the brothers Hewling would persuade him to look at public matters with their eyes was what none could say as yet.

Things were in this way at the approach of Christmas, and of that busy festive season which kept me so close at home that I could scarce stir abroad in search of amusement or information. There seemed to be nothing but coming and going from morning till night--the lack of rain, which still continued even during the winter, making the roads better for travellers, and the excited state of the country tending to make men restless and anxious for news.

But what excited me more than the rumours from London or the preparations for Christmas-tide was the return of Mistress Mary to Miss Blake's house just before the festive season came.

I did not know that she was back; for the school had broken up for the recess, and my informant Lizzie, who kept me conversant with what went on within those walls, had not heard anything of the matter when I was asked to come and read to the ladies, as I was in the way of doing from time to time. When therefore I entered the parlour, with my book beneath my arm and the most recent news-letter in my hand, who should be there, in her accustomed seat beside the fire, but Mistress Mary Mead, looking as sweet and lovely as ever, though perhaps a little pale; and seated beside her, with his hungry, cruel-looking eyes almost always fixed upon her face, was the Rev. Nicholas Blewer, the man whom above all others in Taunton Town I feared and hated.

How came he there? and how dared he sit beside Mistress Mary as though it were his right, and keep his evil eyes so constantly upon her face as he was doing now? I felt my blood boil in my veins as I saw him, and I should well have liked to take the knave by the throat and fling him out at the door. But instead I was forced to sit in my place and read to him as well as to the rest, and listen to his comments upon the news of the week--comments which, as I well saw, brought the flush of anger many times into Mistress Mary's cheek. For Mr. Blewer was a bitter enemy of those who held for liberty and the Duke; and it was whispered that at heart he was a Papist, and every whit as cruel as the Duke of York.

Now I trust that in thus speaking of Mr. Blewer it will not be thought that I would willingly speak evil of any man called to a holy office, or that I have any hatred towards the clergy of the Established Church of the land, for this is far from being the case. I hold that we owe them all reverence and honour, and, as these pages will show, I account Mr. Axe a great and noble man, albeit he took our contrary part in the struggle I am coming to. Yet inasmuch as there are black sheep in every flock, and as the cassock and surplice do not do away with a man's evil nature--nay, the very fact that a man of unbridled passions should blaspheme the name of God and the Holy Ghost by taking upon himself vows for which he is unfit, makes his office of necessity a mockery and a stumbling-block--so it always has seemed to me that if an ordained priest of God is untrue to his calling, he becomes a much worse man than if he had not mocked God by taking such vows into his lips. At least I can but say that Mr. Blewer always appeared to me to be an emissary of the Evil One disguised as a servant of God, and I am sure that Mistress Mary shrank from him as though he were indeed such an one.

It was a great matter of wonderment to me how he came to be in Miss Blake's parlour, for I was sure that neither she nor Mrs. Musgrave had any love for him. These ladies and their pupils (such as resided beneath their roof) attended service at St. Mary's Church, as it was considered right and proper to do, and Mr. Axe was revered and beloved by them. But why this evil-faced Mr. Blewer was admitted was a source of much perplexity to me, and my perplexity was turned to alarm when I perceived that upon rising to take his leave he saluted Mistress Mary's hand with a look which could not well be mistaken, and made as though he would have gone further and saluted her lips also had she not drawn herself away with a decision that was not to be mistaken.

I saw an ugly look spring into his eyes at that, and thought his smile more hideous than a frown would have been.

"Ah well, I must be patient, sweetheart," he said. "We shall learn to understand each other better in time."

Then, with a bow which included all the ladies, he retired, and I was almost astonished to see gentle Mistress Mary dash the hand that he had kissed against the marble mantel-shelf with such force that she must have bruised the tender skin.

"That odious man!" she cried, with unwonted heat. "Prithee, dear madam, have pity upon me, and let him come here no more."

"Dear Mary, I like him as little as thou," answered Miss Blake, with a shake of the head. "I know he is an evil creature. But what can I do, when your worthy guardian bids me give him access from time to time, that he may pay his addresses to you, and tells me that he does this with his approval and consent?"

I almost gasped at this, for I began to see that Mistress Mary was like to be made the victim of a plot which seemed vile and base to me, although I was certain that Lord Lonsdale had no idea of acting unjustly or cruelly. Doubtless he would think Mr. Blewer a suitable husband for his ward. No one knew aught against him, so far as I had ever heard, and he had some money, and came of a family as good as Mistress Mary's. To get her safely and quickly married would, of course, be the easiest way of keeping her out of the path of his son. I could not wonder at the turn matters had taken, and yet my heart felt hot within me as I thought of the Viscount and then recalled the cruel, wolfish face of Mr. Blewer.

That night, as I reached my room, I stepped out upon the balcony and eagerly scanned the windows of the house I had just quitted. Once or twice it had been my hap to see the fair face of Mistress Mary looking out from a window not very far away; and to-night fortune favoured me, for I had not been at my post more than a few minutes before a curtain was drawn aside and a gleam of light shone out. Then quickly a casement was flung open as if by an impatient hand, and Mistress Mary leaned out into the clear frosty night as though eager to inhale the fresh cold air. I thought I heard a sound break from her like a sob or a sigh. That she was in perplexity and trouble I could not doubt, and I longed with a longing that would brook no delay to go and comfort her.

I looked into the yard below. All was perfectly quiet and tranquil. I scanned all the windows of both houses, but no light shone from any save Mistress Mary's. I stood above her in my balcony, clasping the